“Karen, sit down for a minute.”
“I’m going now.”
“Karen—”
“I’m all right, Linda.”
“I know you are.”
“I mean I’m all right, I’m not going to cry or anything. You don’t have to worry.”
“I wasn’t worried.”
“I didn’t mean to run a whole number on you like that. I got carried away.”
“It’s nothing.”
Those eyes, so much like Hugh’s, bored into hers. It was almost painful to meet the girl’s gaze.
“I’m not a child, Linda.”
“I know that.”
“I’m not a child. You make me act like one, but I’m not. I don’t know what it is. Look, I’m sorry.”
“It’s cool.”
“Thanks.”
Twenty-three
Melanie was upstairs watching television when the doorbell rang. She came down the staircase slowly, trying to guess who it might be and whether she ought to answer the bell at all. Salesmen and assorted door-to-door pests were creatures of the morning and afternoon and it was close to eight thirty; the program she was watching had gone on at eight o’clock and was more than half over.
It wouldn’t be Sully. He always used his key. But it might be some other man. There had been several over the past few weeks, one of them a door-to-door pest, an insurance snoop who had learned nothing from her about the couple next door but a great deal about horizontal pleasures. As well as she could determine, he was the only man she’d had sex with since Warren and Bert who knew her address. The others were all strangers who would have trouble tracking her down. Nor did it seem likely that the insurance snoop would risk turning up unannounced. She had attempted to ward off such a return visit with a story about her husband’s two strongest attributes: his rabid jealousy and his prowess with handguns.
It might be Warren, though. Or it might be any man who had heard her name mentioned and wanted to try his luck.
The bell sounded again. She did not want to see anyone tonight, but refusing to open the door would only postpone whatever problem might be in the offing. She went to the door, drew a quick breath, and opened it.
“Mrs. Jaeger?”
Not a man at all. A girl. The face was familiar, she had seen it before, and now she tried to place it.
“I don’t know if you remember me, but—”
Of course! “Why, of course I do,” she said, smiling brilliantly. “You’re Hugh Markarian’s daughter.”
“That’s right.”
“Of course I remember you, Linda.”
The girl’s eyes sparkled. “Far-out,” she said, thing is, you were Linda. I’m Karen.”
“I—”
“The thing is, I goofed by calling you Linda. But it’s not really important. Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I think so.” She swallowed. “Why don’t you come inside?”
“Thanks. This is a very nice house.”
“Thank you. I’m afraid my husband isn’t home right now.”
“I know.” Her eyes met Melanie’s. “I stopped at the Barge to check and I saw he was working.”
“Oh.”
“I hope I’m not keeping you from anything, Melanie. Is it all right to call you Melanie?”
“I don’t see why not. Better that than Linda. And no, you’re not keeping me from anything. I’m just going to run upstairs and turn off the TV. I wasn’t even looking at it, just something to do. Why don’t you have a seat, I’ll be right down, okay?”
But she stopped in the upstairs john to check her hair, splash cold water on her face, freshen her lipstick. What on earth did the girl want? To warn her away from her father? That seemed completely crazy unless the girl herself was off her nut, and she seemed sane enough. Besides, she was being as well mannered as could be.
To set up a date for her with Markarian? That seemed even less plausible. In the first place, she doubted Hugh wanted to see her again any more than she wanted to see him. It had been a pleasant enough means for her to a dramatically agreeable end, and for Markarian it had no doubt been better than solitary drinking, but after the embarrassment with Karen and her black boyfriend she couldn’t imagine him wanting to renew their acquaintance. They had passed on the street once or twice since then and neither had said hello. In short, it had turned out precisely as she had hoped it would, a one-night fling that had served its purpose without getting her involved in anything more extensive.
Then what in hell did Karen Markarian want from her young life?
She went downstairs, hoping she looked more poised and self-assured than she felt. Karen was sitting on the sofa, legs crossed, smoking a cigarette. The tight dungarees showed off her legs nicely, Melanie noticed, and there was obviously no bra under Karen’s tie-dyed T-shirt. Well, there was no bra under her own blouse, as far as that went, but Karen’s T-shirt was more revealing even if the younger girl had substantially less to reveal.
“Would you like some coffee, Karen?”
“Not now. It’s kind of warm for coffee.”
“A cold drink?”
“Maybe a Coke or something.”
“I think there’s Pepsi.”
“That would be great.” She fussed in the kitchen, filling two tall glasses with ice cubes, pouring the Pepsis. Returning, she said, “I decided to have one myself. It’s Diet Pepsi, actually. I figure why take on the extra calories when you can’t taste the difference anyway.”
“With a figure like yours you don’t have to worry.”
“I ought to lose a few pounds.”
“I don’t see where.” She could almost feel the girl’s eyes on her body. “Anyway, I don’t think I could hassle with that whole routine of watching weight. My mother is always on a diet and always gaining die weight back and I don’t see what good it does her. I’d rather be a few pounds overweight than go through all that.”
“You don’t have to worry.”
“I’m probably thinner than I ought to be, I guess.”
“Not too thin, though.” She put her glass down on the coffee table. “It gets harder when you get to be a few years older.”
“How old are you, Melanie?”
“Twenty-five. Why?”
“No reason. I was nineteen last month. Melanie? My father doesn’t know I’m here. Not that it’s any big deal, but just that it isn’t about him or anything.”
“Oh.”
“In case you were wondering.”
“Well, I guess I was.”
“I was in town with nothing to do and I sort of thought of you. I thought maybe you get lonely sitting here all night while your old man is working.”
“Sometimes I do.”
“I get lonely myself sometimes.”
“I see.”
“Do you?”
The girl’s stare, so open and so penetrating, was to meet and harder still to turn away from. The voice, so flat and frank and... and young, went through her like a pin fixing a butterfly to a board. She remembered discussing this girl with Sully, remembered teasing him with the thought that she might make love to Karen as she had made love to Hugh.
The idea had excited Sully. But it had excited her as well, both at the time and in retrospect. And after she had been with Bert and Warren, her mind had several times been intrigued by the thought of sex with another woman. Now and then her partner in her fantasy had been Karen.
Would she have ever thought to act on it? She could not deny the possibility, for she had already found herself capable of a variety of actions she would never have imagined herself taking.
But—
“It was funny, you calling me Linda. I just saw her a little while ago.”